16th of February 2015

15th of February 2015

14th of February 2015

13th of February 2015

12th of February 2015

11th of February 2015

10th of February 2015

9th of February 2015

8th of February 2015

7th of February 2015

6th of February 2015

Please note: I collected these stories, they are not mine. Keep that in mind when reading and commenting :)

Every now and then I get scared and insecure about my relationship and where it is going. I sometimes forget that my man really loves me, and that I love him. We tend to have conversations about that, with me saying: 'I don't always feel that you love me' and him replying: 'but I do, I really do love you'. During one of these repetitive conversations he suddenly stood up and walked to the bedroom. I was curious, and I followed him. He was standing on the bed, a permanent marker in his hand. On my bedroom wall he wrote the following sentences:

I love you

I am never gonna leave you

You have a safe space when you are with me

I will keep my promise

Although I would love to say that we never have these conversations again, we do. But every time I feel insecure I think of those words on the bedroom wall in the house where I no longer live. We moved in together last summer.

Today is the last day of the Weeks of Secrets and Memories series. A while back I asked you stories, and I published them with a Notes to Ginny twist. 
The first two weeks were about secrets you kept close and never revealed. Those were pretty heavy stories, and I thank those (anonymous) people for opening up!
The last week was a collection of memories people sent me. Those were also heavy, but very beautiful at the same time. Thanks to the people who took the time to write these memories down and letting us relive these memories with them!

I hope you enjoyed this series!

Lots of love,
Ginny.

5th of February 2015

Please note: I collected these stories, they are not mine. Keep that in mind when reading and commenting :)

A memory of what is and what is not.

I've known you for a lot of years now. Or actually, I don't. I'm just starting to really getting to know you. Before that, we were just "small talk", "a smile" or "a dance" to each other.  It changed at that event. You were there with your boyfriend. Or actually, he wasn't. He was a boy, but not a friend. I never knew he was there until much later. We still talked, smiled and danced. Maybe it started there. maybe not, but actually, it was "a" start.

Not aware of it at the time, my "start" happened one night, after dark, me knocking on your door. You've invited me over and I replied "okay, but then I stay." Not knowing how the evening would turn out, and okay with all the possibilities I stepped in your house. Or actually, in your life.

That week you told me of the boy and that he was now out of your life. At least physically. You trusted me enough to tell me that there were things you could not tell me......yet. You had a secret, or better yet, secrets. How you spend your days. What you did. What he made you do. How manipulating it had been. Things you've seen that no one should have to see. Things you've heard and have been called. Things you could not stop now that he was gone and you were now telling yourself it was your own decision.

Another night. Another start. I'd guessed some, but not all. We talked. We cried. We talked a lot more. We decided "No more" and it scared the heck out of you. I can't imagine how much courage it must have taken you to make that step. To put it all away. To place someone (me) on that same spot in your life that had hurt you so much.

This is my sad memory. Or actually, a happy one. For I lived this with you. It's one of the first moments of "us". Of you and me being together and at the end of all, it's "us" that makes me smile.

I don't really care what is, what was and what's not. Whatever you did or happened to you, it made you who you are today. You are Beautiful in all possible ways and I am so incredibly proud you choose me to share your future memories with.

"more and more each day"

I started with a new special series: Weeks of Secrets and Memories. A while back I asked you stories, and I publish these stories now with a Notes to Ginny twist. 
These first two weeks were about secrets you kept close and never revealed. There are wonderful stories of wonderful people who wanted to get the truth out! This week will be a collection of memories (some good, some bad) people send me. 

I hope you like this series!

Lots of love,
Ginny.

4th of February 2015

Please note: I collected these stories, they are not mine. Keep that in mind when reading and commenting :)

We are walking down the mountain, after a day of climbing. You are joking, teasing, irritating, just being you. And I do not mind. Do you know that point in your life when you have been hurt so many times, that when it happens again, it doesn't actually hurt anymore? That you can say, yeah it's what I am used to? Pain becomes normal. And when you jokingly say, well maybe it is because I am a asshole, I finally speak up. Maybe because the pain became enough, so enough that I am finally not scared anymore, not scared of the pain of losing you. How could I, when every minute with you is pain? Or maybe because I got blank, empty, and stopped thinking. Thinking about how I need to be, to not make you angry. Still, Docile, Obedient. So I speak up. "yes, you are an asshole".

You make a dead stop. You look at me in wonder. "then why do you sleep with me? " Because you are you, because I am an addict to the pain, because I love you, I am a junkie, without you there is more pain than with you? But all I can say is "well, because my father was an asshole too, and you know, I am fucked up that way" Pissed of that I did not immediately retract my statement, that I did not try and make it a joke you start walking again. "well, maybe I am not healthy for you." And somehow, somehow I keep doing this, keep this conversation going. Somehow, brutally honest, the answers keep spilling out. "Yes, you are not healthy for me".

"Then maybe we should stop this". "Yes, maybe we should".

And that is it. We are over. Again. How many times can you break up with somebody you don't have a relationship with? Many times. Angrily you stomp down the mountain. Silently I follow you. Even now we are over, I still follow you. Still behave, still be silent, don't want to push you. Already want to take back my harsh words. Tell you that I wasn't thinking, that it is okay. But when I have been finally honest, when I finally stood up, and told you how I felt, and that you are unhealthy, I should stay strong now.

Hours later we are in our tent. Fighting. First silently, then harder. We talk and we talk and we talk. Until I am in your arms again, and you whisper: "we shouldn't be doing this, I am not good for you" I tell you that we should. "but I do not want to take advantage of you" A lie. We both know it. Please do, please use me, abuse me, it is after all what I am used to, what I can handle. I lie "it wouldn't be taking advantage". So you do, you use me, again. I let you again.

I started with a new special series: Weeks of Secrets and Memories. A while back I asked you stories, and I publish these stories now with a Notes to Ginny twist. 
These first two weeks were about secrets you kept close and never revealed. There are wonderful stories of wonderful people who wanted to get the truth out! This week will be a collection of memories (some good, some bad) people send me. 

I hope you like this series!

Lots of love,
Ginny.

3rd of February 2015

Please note: I collected these stories, they are not mine. Keep that in mind when reading and commenting :)

We sit on the windowsill, looking at the house we just rented. We signed the contract, got the keys and now we are just sitting there, thinking about how it would look like with our stuff in it. Yesterday we had a long talk about this next step. We lived together, you broke up with me, you moved out of our house, we came back together and we decided to move to a bigger house. I asked you  if you were sure of this, it was a lot of money, and neither of us could live in this house on our own. We had to trust, we had to believe, we had to fight if we wanted to make this work. 'Yes,' you said, 'I am sure. I really love you, and I never want to leave you again. It hurt when I was without you, I felt miserable. I know that I want to be with you.'

I still had my doubts, but I decided to believe you, give you the benefit of the doubt. We started cleaning and packing boxes, we brought all the boxes to the new place. I have always found it weird: seeing your life been taken away in a couple of boxes. And now your  boxes were added to the pile. Two lives combined to one household. It was scary, it was exciting, it was full of possibilities.

A few days later we had moved all the furniture to the right places; so we had a couch, we had a bed, we had a dining table and a few chairs. We agreed to unpack some boxes today. I started around 2 p.m., you would be home around 5 p.m.. We would have the whole afternoon and evening to tidy up the biggest mess. I put on some music and started unpacking, first the plates and the mugs later some picture frames and candles. Suddenly I heard the key in the lock. I looked at the time, it was only half past 3 p.m.. I walk to the hallway, feeling blessed that you had come early. You keep your coat on, and walk to the sofa. You shake your head: 'Babe, I know what I said, but I now feel that I can't have a relationship with you. I don't want to live with you, and I don't love you.'

My heart suddenly feels very heavy, I don't know what to say. I can curse, I can yell, I can cry. But it doesn't feel okay. I just would have liked it if you had told me a week ago, and not right after signing that contract and giving up my old house. You made my life more difficult that it needed to be. I feel betrayed. I trusted you and you were not honest to me. I feel like you didn't take my needs into consideration. I feel all that, but I don't want to let you know. I feel lost, I lost my boyfriend, but I also lost the person I spend most of my time with. I don't even want to see your face right now. I just want to be alone, make my own decisions, without depending on you. ' Please don't leave me, but go. Take some clothes or stuff, I will sort out the rest. I hope we can stay in touch'.

This was not the end of our story, but it is one of the stories that surrounded our relationship. I can tell many more of these stories, but I do not intend to give you that much space in my life. You hurt me, you are one of the people who taught me that people cannot be trusted, you played with my trust and my feelings. I still don't like what happened, but it's okay. I learned, I fought, I came back stronger and I feel much better without you anywhere in my life. 

I started with a new special series: Weeks of Secrets and Memories. A while back I asked you stories, and I publish these stories now with a Notes to Ginny twist. 
These first two weeks were about secrets you kept close and never revealed. There are wonderful stories of wonderful people who wanted to get the truth out! This week will be a collection of memories (some good, some bad) people send me. 

I hope you like this series!

Lots of love,
Ginny.

2nd of February 2015

Please note: I collected these stories, they are not mine. Keep that in mind when reading and commenting :)

it is a recent one, just week or two old, but already one of my special ones.

Imagine a mountain. Imagine a steep mountain. 100 meters of elevation, a cliff on the top of the world. to the left only air, and 1000 meters lower I can see the valley. most mountains are slowly flowing, but due to the terraces this one is built of, there is a very binary thing going on. 1 mountain, 0 air. Somewhere on this gorgeous landscape he found the perfect bivak. A small cave, a few meters of rock towering over us, a small path, 1 meter of rock to the left, and next to that air. Imagine a man, tall, strong, big. Just everything is big about him, his arms, his smile, his strength. Right now he is coming around the corner, jugging a big tree behind him. He grins. Me Tarzan, you Jane. I am happy. So happy. small bubbles of joy fill me while I watch him make us a fire in the back of the cave. Meanwhile I tend to the woman part of our ordeal, spreading the beds, taking out the sleeping backs, making a last cup of thee, with some warm soy milk. The sky is so clear, I can see the milky way. We are on the mountain, and it is calling to us. No other people, no sounds, just us, the clear sky, the deep abyss to the left.

I crawl into my sleeping bag, to keep my legs warm. We talk, we talk, and we cuddle. Strong arms around me, cold air against my face, it is freezing, but his warmth and the fire keep the cold away. He hugs me closer, and slowly strips me of my sleeping bag, the cold hits me like a hammer, thousands of small needles of pain. But then he is inside me, and the pain just a distant memory. I brace myself on holds of the rock (owh the joy of being a climber, of being strong enough to take this) and drown myself in the sensations, the sensations of him, of being here. Of feeling the cold, gazing upon the view, and of the things he makes my body feel. afterwards he tends to the fire, makes it so that it will glow the whole night. I crawl deep into my sleeping bag and curl up against my stuffed Hello Kitty. He looks, and starts to laugh. "what is that? Did you bring your cuddly toy up the mountain?". There goes my hardcore outdoor girl imago...

I started with a new special series: Weeks of Secrets and Memories. A while back I asked you stories, and I publish these stories now with a Notes to Ginny twist. 
These first two weeks were about secrets you kept close and never revealed. There are wonderful stories of wonderful people who wanted to get the truth out! This week will be a collection of memories (some good, some bad) people send me. 

I hope you like this series!

Lots of love,

Ginny.

1st of February 2015

Please note: I collected these stories, they are not mine. Keep that in mind when reading and commenting :) Today Taggart would like to share his story.

I watched her intently as she looked away from me. It was as if she was staring into eternity and I was an insignificant speck for a moment. The light pouring in from the windows casted a surreal-ness to it all. The cool April air stabbed at my senses as it moved the lace curtains and her skirt.

I just kept staring at her mesmerized for the moment. Unable to look away, but deep down I knew that I had lingered too long in this place. There was nothing I could say or do. Yet I felt like I should say or do something to break the silence however it was like Zeus himself ordered me to be silent. I knew that from this day forth our paths would never cross again and this was truly farewell. In it all I knew this had to be, it was fate preordained by the highest gods.

Finally I turned and left but not before taking one final look over my shoulder at her. She remained motionless as I finally took my leave and said my farewell. No reaction from her at all as if she had become a statue of living stone. The moment was over and so was what we had. Never to be again. - Taggart

I started with a new special series: Weeks of Secrets and Memories. A while back I asked you stories, and I publish these stories now with a Notes to Ginny twist. 
These first two weeks were about secrets you kept close and never revealed. There are wonderful stories of wonderful people who wanted to get the truth out! This week will be a collection of memories (some good, some bad) people send me. 

I hope you like this series!

Lots of love,
Ginny.